It's Probably Me
by kilgore61
Summary: Post STD. Who decides what is good and and what is evil, what is right and what is wrong? Is anybody in charge? The whole gang is here, with a few additions! Chapter 6 now up. Please R&R, Thanks,enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

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**_DISCLAIMER:_** This is a work of fan fiction. It was written for entertainment purposes only, and falls under the "fair use" provisions of the Copyright act. Unless indicated otherwise, all characters herein are © Disney.

* * *

The sky above the prison was a deep, deep purple, with a thin line of fading orange just above the horizon. An icy wind blew through the November sky. Winter was on its way, and it looked like it was going to be a bad one. Not a good night to be outside.

The prison gates shut behind him with a loud _CLANG_, followed by harsh silence. This wasn't quite the reception the blue man had in mind upon his release. No reporters, no protesters, no screaming fans, no one at all to greet him. Nothing but the cold air whipping past. The sad truth that the only face he had wanted and hoped (but didn't really _expect_) to see wasn't here either made the blue man even bluer. Dressed in a t-shirt, khakis and a light jacket, Dr. Drakken longed for his trademark blue wool outfit. It was itchy, but it kept him warm. Ever since the accident, he was susceptible to the cold, even in summertime.

Drakken was a little unsure just what to do with himself. This was his first release from jail legally. Usually, he and Shego made a break for it together. He had no idea where she might have been incarcerated, her criminal record was long and she was wanted in countless jurisdictions. In fact, of the two of them, Shego was the only one the authorities considered dangerous. Dr. Drakken was a bit miffed. He was the evil genius! He was the one who made all the diabolical plans! The mastermind! Shego was merely his lackey! Of course when the facts were presented in court, it was discovered that plotting to take over the world wasn't exactly illegal. That fact that he never actually **succeeded**, foiled every single time by teen wonder Kim Possible, worked to his favor. If he could be so easily defeated by a TEENAGER, he couldn't be considered that much of a threat. Hell, he didn't even merit parole! What turned out to be a blessing in court was a massive blow to his ego. Drat! How he hated that teen-aged do-gooder, goody-_goody_, _**goody two-shoes**!_ Drakken's over-priced shyster was able to get him sentenced to only six months in jail, his previous capers were either pleaded down to misdemeanors, time served, or blamed on Shego. Drew Lipsky was merely a victim, dragged down by his affections for the evil, nefarious, green-skinned siren. Whatever the defense was, it worked. He was free.

Free to starve. He may have been considered nothing more than a public nuisance by the criminal court system, but the civil courts were another matter. His finances were wiped out. All of his resources had been eaten away by the fallout of the _Bueno Nacho _affair, to pay for the Diablo-bots carnage. Not one red cent had he left. All Drakken had was $35.00 and a bus ticket to Lowerton. And these dreadfully thin clothes. He shivered, turning a shade bluer, and trudged off into the twilight, toward the bus depot.

* * *

It was the single most beautiful sunset the two of them had ever seen. Of course they said that damn near every evening, but tonight,...well, tonight was just special. The crisp, chilly breeze, the colors of the sky, the taste of the cocoa, the scents in the air, the warmth they shared ... Heaven itself couldn't be this wonderful.

Sitting on the Possible's rooftop as they had so many times before, Ron and Kim had a spectacular view of Middleton valley and the exquisite sunset. Snuggling together in a sleeping bag (it _was_ chilly outside...at least that's the rationale Ron gave MrDr P...), talking about everything and nothing in particular, enjoying the view and each others company, was one of Kim's favorite things to do nowadays. The hero thing had kind of taken a backseat in her new world with Ron. Not that she and Ron didn't go on missions anymore, quite the contrary. Just last week was the disturbing incident with Monkey Fist at the Upperton zoo. And Wade had issued a few warnings about some new nut-case trying to make the scene. Nature abhors a vacuum. But other than that, the calls to duty just weren't as frequent after the Diablo disaster as before. The usual suspects were behaving themselves. It might be a case of the calm before the storm, but Kim certainly hoped not. Everything was absolutely perfect. And it seemed to keep getting better and better.

"That was the second most beautiful thing I've ever seen in my life," Ron sighed happily.

"Really? What was the first?" Kim asked, knowing full well what his answer would be.

"Watching Brick score the winning touchdown against the Lemurs the other...OUCH!" he yelped as Kim gave him a pinch. "No, wait a second," Ron recovered. "That was the third thing. The first was a certain red-headed cheerleader on the sidelines!" He smiled down at her.

"Good answer," replied Kim, and she rewarded him with a warm kiss. She snuggled deeper into him. "Oh, Ronnie..." she sighed quietly, resting her head on his shoulder and laying her arm across his chest. She wore a rather forlorn expression for someone who was happy.

Ron noticed this (he was a goofball, but he wasn't dense. Not when it was important, anyway) and asked her: "Everything O.K. KP? That was a heavy sigh."

Rufus, empathetic little creature that he was, sensing something was upsetting his pet girl, popped out of Ron's shirt pocket for a quick check-up. The mole-rat gave Kim a brisk once over and hugged her cheek. "Hhnnk...OK!" he chirped.

Kim pressed her cheek back against him and said, "I'm fine. Really, I'm _beyond _'fine'. I love you too, Rufus." She gave him a little peck and patted his head, and, satisfied Kim was good to go, Rufus went back to his post-snooze nap.

"Oh sure! You love _him_!" teased Ron. "He's cuuute! What about me?"

Kim looked at Ron with an intensity he had rarely seen before, and even then only when she was angry. This was different. Those piercing green eyes of hers cut right into the very core of his soul. No fortification on earth could withstand that onslaught.

"KP? I was just kidding..." She looked so...sad? Happy? Old? Young? Maybe all that combined, maybe something else there was no adequate word for. He was clueless and needed help. "What's going on with you?"

Kim continued gazing into his eyes. Ron wasn't sure what she was looking for, or at, but whatever it was, she seemed to like it. "Love doesn't even begin to describe how I feel...," she trailed off. "It's just... everything is so _perfect_ right now. I never thought I could be this happy, or contented, or...I don't know..." She took a deep breath. "I mean, you and I, all this time and now we're together, and I can't even remember before...when we were best friends, which we still are of course, but then there's... ARRRGH!" A tear of frustration ran down her cheek.

"You always did have a way with words, KP". She pinched him again.

"I mean it, Ron! You mean so _much_ to me, I mean you always did, but now...everything's been so incredible and exciting and,... I don't want it to ever end..." As competent and fearless as she was at practically everything else, Kim had difficulty expressing her deepest feelings, even to Ron. "...I love you. I can't imagine my life without you," was about as close as she could get. She had told him this before, and it still wasn't quite "right," but she could tell Ron understood. It'd have to do, for now.

"S'okay, Kim. I know exactly how you feel" It wasn't a lie. Ron always thought of himself as kind of shallow, and he was often overwhelmed by the depth of his feelings for Kim. He couldn't quite explain it either. So instead, he gently kissed her forehead and reassured her "If I have anything to do with it, you'll never have to." She held him tighter. "Oh, Ron..." she sighed again, her heart and her voice lighter this time.

_**Beep beep BE deep**_

Saved by the Kimmunicator. It's familiar ring helped break the sweet melancholy they found themselves in. "What up, Wade?"

"Hey guys!" Wade greeted them cheerfully. "Howzit goin'? I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

"Naw. It's a little early yet for that!" Ron piped up. Kim pinched him once more. "OW!"

"Settle down, Ron. We're good, Wade. What's the sitch?"

"Just letting you know Drakken got released today." Wade announced.

Kim rolled her eyes. "So much for everything being perfect...".

"For once, you have nothing to worry about Kim. I think you guys pretty much defeated him for the last time, last time!" Wade's grip on language was comparable to Kim's, thought Ron. As if she knew what he was thinking, Kim shot him a _"you're SO gonna get it if you don't knock it off"_ look. She made a pinching motion with her fingers. Ron froze as Wade continued: "Even if he did go back to his old habits, he doesn't have much to work with. State prison standard release protocol consists of about forty dollars and a bus ticket to the town of your choice. Within sixty miles of the prison, that is. Be hard to take over the world on that tight of a budget, even for Frugal Lucre."

"That depends..." said Kim. She knew what direction Drakken would most likely take first. "Any luck locating Shego?"

"Nope," said Wade, "Like the rat she is, she's good at hiding, Kim. Hannibal Lecter good. If I can't flush her out, no one can. GJ had to drop her from the 'Most Wanted' list. They listed her as 'presumed dead'."

"Not likely," Kim said. "Shego's out there somewhere. Even Hannibal Lecter was found out eventually." But of course, that was in a not-so-good movie sequel. This was real-life. But, if Wade couldn't find her, there was no way Drakken could. "Thanks, Wade. You rock as always! Keep us posted." She signed off.

"Kids! Dinner's almost ready!" came the sing-song voice of MrsDr P from inside the house. Rufus popped out of Ron's pocket, alert and ever ready at the prospect of food. And he sure loved Mom's cooking. "Yay!" he squeaked. Dinner did smell good.

"Thanks Mom! We'll be right there!" Kim shouted back.

As they climbed the tree down to the back yard, Ron said thoughtfully, "You forgot to ask what city Drakken got a ride to."

"Does it matter?" replied Kim. "Like Wade said, he's got nuthin'!" As they went inside to eat, Kim added, "I mean really, Ron, how much trouble can he cause on his own?"

* * *

Trouble was attracted to Drakken. Yes sir, Trouble (with a capital T) _really_ took a shine to good ol' Dr.D. In fact, you could say Trouble was downright crazy in _LOVE_ with him. Trouble _stalked_ Drakken, and no restraining order on earth could keep it away. He hadn't even gotten on the bus before it walked right up and kissed him.

Drakken waited in line at the ticket window to purchase an upgrade to Upperton. If he was going to be destitute and homeless, at least he could do it in the nicest part of the Tri-City area. When he reached the window, the clerk told him: "That'll be forty dollars."

"FORTY DOLLARS!" Drakken choked. "That's outrageous! It's only fifty-two miles difference! I refuse to pay it!"

"Fine, " said the clerk. "When you get to Lowerton you can walk."

Why did _everyone_ give him lip? When he ruled the world, this little man was going to feel the mighty wrath of Dr. Drakken! At the moment, however... "Fine!" Drakken growled, "Here!" He thrust all the cash in his pocket at the clerk.

Looking down at the money, the clerk said,"There's only $35 here. I said forty."

"What?" Drakken counted the money. Blast! He must have been short changed by the deputy at the prison! "_Why does this always happen to ME_?" he whined to himself.

Changing tactics, Drakken assumed a smarmy air. "Say there, pal! How's about helping out a fellow who's temporarily, I stress _temporarily,_ down on his luck? Care to float me five bucks? Just for a few days? Hmmmmm? I've got a really big check coming in the next few days!" he cajoled. Out and out lied was more like it.

The clerk looked at him skeptically. "Sure you do."

Drakken feigned being affronted. "What do you mean? I would take care of you, buddy! Throw in a little extra moola, you know? Cabbage, semolians, greeny goodness?" Wiggling his fingers, Drakken wheedled his best. Which wasn't very good. "For your trouble, I mean. How's an extra dollar or two sound? Pretty good, eh?" Gilding the lily, he gave the clerk a wink.

"No," said the clerk. "Next!"

Fuming, Drakken stomped off towards the loading area. As he reached the doors, he saw the bus pulling away. Fortunately, it was close enough for him to catch up with it. Running alongside, he banged on the doors. "Hey!" he bellowed. "Ho there! STOP!"

The bus stopped, and the doors opened. Drakken entered and asked, "This is the bus to Lowerton, is it not?"

"Sure is, chum," said the chubby man behind the wheel. "Last one of the night. Got your ticket handy?"

Drakken fumbled through his pockets. No ticket! He must have left it at the counter... "Hold on, I just left it inside. Be right back!" he said cheerily as he exited the bus.

"Sorry, buddy," said the driver, "I got a schedule to meet." The doors closed and the bus drove off.

Coughing through the exhaust fumes, Drakken glowered furiously at the bus as it disappeared into the cold, cold night. _"Dandy, just...dandy"_ he mused angrily. He marched back to the station, and went to see "Mr. Personality" at the ticket window.

"Hey, Blueboy!" yelled the clerk. "Forget something?" He waved Drakken's ticket in the air.

"Give me that!" snapped Drakken, grabbing the ticket from the clerk's hand. "When is the next bus to Lowerton?"

"8:00 tomorrow morning" The station went dark as the clerk shut off the lights. "Nighty-night! Don't let the bedbugs bite!"

"_Cute,"_ thought Drakken. _"I'll bet the ones in this god-forsaken hell-hole leave nasty welts."_ Plopping down on a filthy, sticky bench, Drakken savored the darkness. All the better to enjoy the murderous thoughts tap-dancing through his mind.

Miserable, infuriated, and utterly alone (except for the rats), Drakken finally fell into an uneasy sleep. He dreamt in shades of blue and green.

**_To be continued..._**


	2. Chapter 2

**_DISCLAIMER - _**This is a work of fan fiction, yadda, yadda, yadda...

Sorry, had to make a few alterations and corrections. If anyone is reading this, that is. Otherwise, I'm just talking to myself...

* * *

Dinner was excellent, as always. Rufus, bloated after the feast, lay in the center of the table, his usual cute yet disgusting centerpiece. Ron scooped him up and asked: "Can I help you with the Dishes, MrsDr P?"

"Why yes, Ron. That would be wonderful," said MrsDr P, "You're so sweet!"

"_Yes, yes he is,"_ Kim agreed, silently. "Do you need my help too, Mom?" she asked.

Before her mother could answer, Ron ushered Kim out of the dining area. "Nonsense! I know my way around a kitchen, Miss Possible," he said.

"We've got it covered, Honey," said MrsDr P. She enjoyed Ron's company almost as much as Kim did. MrsDr P was overjoyed (and occasionally a little envious) by her daughter's good fortune in finding such a loving, thoughtful and fun man. She sometimes wished James could let loose like Ron did. "Why don't you go see what your father is up to?"

"Good idea! You go relax a few, my dearest Kimness. If you're good, there"ll be a treat for you!" That meant Ron had something special in mind for dessert. She could hear her mother and Ron chattering away merrily as they cleaned up. God, how she loved him...

Kim went into the living room and found her Dad sitting on the couch, engaged in that favorite of male pastimes – channel surfing. She lay down on the couch next to him and laid her head on his lap, something she had done since she was small, when she felt vulnerable and needed his fatherly guidance. Which wasn't very often these days. "Everything OK, Kimmie-cub?" he asked her.

"Everything's great, dad! I've never been happier!"

Not believing her, but playing along anyway he said "Great to hear. Ron's a good catch. You two were meant to be..."

"It's not Ron..."

A-ha! He knew _something_ was bothering her. Knowing his role was to help her figure it out, he remained silent, pretending to be engrossed in finding something decent to watch. He waited. And waited some more. OK, maybe she needed a little prodding. "Everything OK at school?"

"For the most part," Kim said, "Don't get me started on Bonnie!" Except even Bonnie had mellowed over the summer, she hadn't really bothered Kim at all lately. Kim sighed and stared at the TV.

Silence.

"How's the volunteer thing going?" he asked. Kim had been filling her time by helping out the community as she could. She had a lot more time for it now...

"OK," she replied, "I'm going to help at the Lowerton relief mission this Saturday..."

More silence.

"_So,...it's going to be like this, is it?"_ thought Dr. Possible. He felt like a dentist. He let the remote control roulette stop where it would. "Oh boy! 'TV Trash Heap' is having a 'Fearless Ferret' marathon!" Kim said nothing. "Heard from Mr. North lately?"

"No...he talks to Ron from time to time." She thought of North's offer to become Ferret Girl.

"They ought to make a show about a _real_ superhero. About you, for example..." Dr Possible was very proud of his little girl.

"Daddy!" Kim said, blushing a little. After a moment she added, " I could sure use the excitement."

"_So that was it_." Kimmie had a case of teenage ennui. "_Enjoy it while you've got it, Kim..."_ he thought. "Don't you think you've had a little too _much_ excitement in your life already?" Pointless to ask, he knew, his daughter thrived on challenges.

"I guess..." she sighed. "I'm just afraid..." She went silent again.

"Afraid that it's all over? That the rest of your life is going to be one giant ball of comfortable boredom?" he asked.

"Yeah,...I s'pose..." she sighed. "How did you know?" Kim was amazed that her father could be so insightful at times.

"I was once your age too, believe it or not," he chided her gently.

"I know that, daddy. It's just that things with Ron are so perfect...I feel like we've known each other forever," Kim said.

"Well, you have," interjected Dr Possible, knowing where this was going. "What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing, I guess...it's just..."

"You're worried there are no more surprises in him?" he asked.

"Yes!" Kim was close to tears. "We're going to grow old and boring just like.." she cut herself off.

"Like your mother and I?" he said, half joking. How Kim could consider her parents and their lives, with a thrill-seeking superhero daughter and her mad genius twin brothers, and all that came with it, as _boring_ made him want to laugh out loud. Seeing how upset Kim was, he restrained himself.

"I'm sorry, daddy. I didn't mean that." Kim was genuinely contrite.

"It's OK, sweetheart. I know what you were getting at." He smiled his best Fatherly smile at her. "Trust me on this one, Kim. Peace and quiet, or 'boring' as you put it, is very underrated," Proving his point, a small explosion followed by a loud _CRASH_ came from the tweeb's room upstairs. "SORRY!" they shouted, "Don't worry about it! We're good!"

"It's not you I'm worried about!" Dr Possible hollered back. "Excuse me for a moment, hon," he stood up, "I'd better go make sure whatever they're working on up there doesn't eat through the floor." As he reached the stairs, he turned and reminded her, "Don't underestimate Ron. I'll bet he's got surprises in store you never even dreamed of."

"Thanks, daddy! I won't..." she said, embarrassed that her father had caught her making the same mistake she had made many times before.

Here came Ron with a nice little surprise right now. He carried two bowls of cake with ice cream, drenched in chocolate syrup. "Here you go, KP! My 'Chocolate Dream Cake Surprise'." Kim's favorite _diet-be-damned_ dessert! " The surprise is the ice cream," he smiled, "...it was the best I could do on short notice."

After they finished, Kim and Ron settled in on the couch, and watched the campy "Fearless Ferret" battle his feathered nemesis "The Waddler."

"_Dad is right...,"_ Kim thought, _"This is better than battling bad guys for real," s_he told herself as she hugged Ron just a little bit tighter.

* * *

_**To be continued**_


	3. Chapter 3

**_DISCLAIMER:_** This is a work of fan fiction. It was written for entertainment purposes only, and falls under the "fair use" provisions of the Copyright act. Unless indicated otherwise, all characters herein are © Disney. Since no one appears to be reading this (except you _donkle_, thanks!), copyright infringement lawsuits are the least of my worries.

* * *

The following morning Drakken awoke grouchy and stiff. He had not slept well at all. He looked around for a clock. It was almost 8:00. With a minimum of fuss he managed to exchange his ticket and get settled aboard the bus. After its little party last night, Trouble must have decided it had too much to drink and needed to sleep it off.

A gregarious salesman attempted to sit next to him. A malevolent glare sent him on his way.

The trip took about two hours, and gave him some time to reflect, (or, as Shego used to put it, "Pity? Party of one? Your table is ready!")._"How, oh how, did it ever come to this?_" he mused. He thought back to the stormy night where he lost everything he ever cared about.

Being trounced and humiliated by that freckled blond what-his-name sidekick of Kim Possible. That didn't hurt so much (only on the inside).

Eric, AKA Synthodrone 901, whom he loved like a son. Oh well, at least he didn't have to pay for his college tuition.

Shego.

He remembered being handcuffed and thrown into the padded police wagon with Shego and the henchmen. It was another routine prison transfer, of the kind they had all experienced many times before. This time however, just outside of town, the wagon and its police escort stopped. Blocking the highway was another police wagon, a real "black Maria". Much more heavily armored than the one they currently rode in.

The back door opened and what looked more like secret ninja agents than regular cops hustled Shego out of the van. Drakken, sure they'd come for him next, heard a terrible struggle outside and tried to see what was happening. To no avail. The door slammed shut and the wagon took off again. That hurt the most of all. She didn't even say goodbye.

Oh well, that was then, this is now.

Good lord, Lowerton was depressing.

Prison was awful , the bus depot was horrible, but Lowerton was worse by being, well, just that, LOWERTON. Drakken was sure at one time it was nice. Perhaps sometime in the Triassic era. The city planners didn't design it that way, the civic leaders had made a good show at one time, proclaiming it an "All American City!", at least according to the rusty, bullet-ridden sign Drakken was looking at.

"_Riiiiight_," thought Drakken, _"where the American Dream comes to die a slow and painful death!" _He smiled evilly, feeling warm and fuzzy inside.

His mood improved, Dr D found a greasy spoon near the station and ordered the $1.99 breakfast special. As he chewed eggs made by Goodyear and hash browns made from used Duraflame logs, he read the morning paper to see what was up in the outside world. Getting past the headlines about the latest Washington scandals and wars and general unrest (_how much better everything will be when I am in charge_)of the world, he was surprised to read that the Diablo aftermath was still front page news. He discovered that the damages totaled in the hundreds of millions of dollars. He was worth that much at one time?

Not anymore...

He then read something that made him spit his coffee all over the counter. Professor Dementor had purchased Drakken's island in the Caribbean for half of what he himself had paid, and announced plans to use it as his winter lair. The thought of that masked midget having access to all of _his_ evil inventions infuriated Drakken to no end. The fact that most of them were boosted by Shego from Dementor in the first place was irrelevant.

Shego.

Wherever she was, Drakken hoped she was doing better than he.

* * *

The little green sports car zipped through he streets of Middleton, the blond woman behind the wheel laughing with delight. She kept it just enough over the speed limit to have fun, but not so fast that she'd get pulled over. That would be bad.

The last few months had been great, she was enjoying a freedom she had never really known before. She was her on her own for the first time in her life. She had finally got out from under her family's collective thumb, and it wasn't long after that before she was hooked up again. She hoped someday to be able to explain what happened that rainy night. And explain why contingency plans were a _good _and _necessary _thing to have in place.

Someday.

Right now, the blond was enjoying the material lifestyle.

She had just finished a trip to the Middleton Mall, where she purchased a couple of really cute little outfits from a gabby clerk at "Club Banana". Couldn't understand a word the girl said, but gabby knew fashion. She drove to a luxurious little apartment not a mile from the Possible household. The little car pulled into the attached garage, and the blond woman went inside.

Once inside, Shego set her packages down, ripped off the wig, and shook her lustrous black hair free. It was much shorter than it used to be, about shoulder length; when she got knocked into Drakken's transmission tower by "New and Improved Kim Possible with Blast-Tastic® Super-Suit", it had fried her hair royally, so much so that she had to cut most of it off. But it was growing back nicely. She went into the bathroom, removed her blue contacts, and scrubbed her face clean. "It's not easy being green" (_Drakken always liked that stupid song_), indeed!

Shego was pleased (after a few weeks of intense paranoia) to find out how easy it was to hide in plain sight with a little make-up and some different colored wigs and contact lenses. Best of all, she was doing it all right under Kim Possible's nose.

After she finished washing up, Shego went to the kitchen and put the kettle on. In her living room, she booted up the computer. The last few months had been nice, that delicious little emerald green sports car with the black leather interior was too perfect, too _her_, to pass up, but it had eaten up her contingency funds a little faster than she anticipated. Like it or not, she needed to find work, and soon. With Dr. D _M.I.A._ and out of the game for the time being, it was time find out what was going on with the rest of the villain community. She'd put out feelers and see if anyone needed a little "Shego-style" assistance. If things got tight, she could always hire out as muscle, but that was last-case scenario only.

Shego wasn't as proficient with the inter-web tech-hacking thing-y (_damn you Drakken_) as Possible's resident geek, but she was no slouch either. Knowing just how adept Nerdlinger McDweeb was at technology, Shego made sure her computer had some extra protections. Besides having clean user IDs and an untraceable address, she installed a nifty little top-secret add-on that let her know if any messages she sent out had any keywords that might red-flag the feds, G.J., or any other nosy-parker law enforcement agency interested in her whereabouts. Not that Shego was particularly worried about that, most had their hands full already processing mountains of useless Internet crap. It'd be some time before they could find her, and by the time they did, she'd have long since moved on.

Letting her green tea steep for a few, she caught up on the news. Not surprisingly, the aftermath of the Diablo fiasco was still the big story, although the antics and sex lives of certain idiot celebrities were starting to take the spotlight away. No big surprise there, either. "_What we could use right now is another pretty little white girl disappearing,"_ she thought, "_that'd take the heat off." _Smiling wickedly, she continued: "_I've even got the perfect candidate."_ But if Kimmie did make a sudden disappearance, Shego knew she'd be the A-numero uno, prime USDA grade "person of interest." Scratch that idea. Team Possible would remain out of reach. For now.

Taking a sip of her soothing green (_you are what you drink_, she thought) tea, Shego spotted a headline that piqued her interest. "LOCH NESS MONSTER CAUGHT" it read. Reading on, she discovered that such was not the case, they'd just captured yet another of DNAmy's abominations of nature. Man, if there was a villain who could use a healthy dollop of Shego-style, it was DNAmy. Shego pondered for a moment. Her and DNAmy - it might make for an interesting partnership, strike a blow for post-modern feminism and all that. It certainly wouldn't take much to cultivate ol' Amy's festering dysfunction and make it blossom. Shego knew beneath that phony cheerfulness beat a heart blacker than her own. But the thought of having to actually enter Amy's life-sized _"Brittina Dream House,"_ sipping tea, chatting away and eating cookies with her, of physically DEALING with her in any way, made Shego throw up in her mouth a little. Besides, cloning was Drakken's thing, not hers. Shego remembered the time Dr. D tried to get into Amy's intellectual "pants" (so to speak) with his ham-fisted sweet-talk, and got the usual disastrous results."Bleeecccchhh!" she said to no one in particular, "...thank all thats unholy THAT didn't work out".

"_Besides, he had better taste than that," _she continued in her head. _"For chrissake, he had me to..."_ she stopped right there. _Drakken...!_

" _Ewwwww!" _she decided. She wished Smarty Mart sold brain bleach

Shego tried to think of someone else in her little circle of "friends" that wasn't as revolting to work with (y_eah...good luck with that)_.Moving on, Shego thought of DNAmy's _object du' _psychotic obsession, Lord Monty Fiske. _"Never work with kids or animals,"_ W.C Fields once said, and sounder advice was never given. Kimmie-poo was proof of the former, and as to the latter, there wasn't a flea collar big enough that that mangy missing-link could wear for Shego to even consider getting near him, let alone work with him. And that SMELL! Their few encounters in the past were more than enough. Besides, while she grudgingly respected his megalomania, his plans for greatness just weren't that lucrative, or fun. And his strange obsession with all things mystical and monkey puzzled her. There had to be something to all that "monkey magic" nonsense, it certainly seemed to be benefiting Stoppable lately, but for the life of her she couldn't see what the fuss was all about.

While on the subject of the freakishly weird, she thought for a moment about Killigan. Yeah, he was a cheap bastard, but at least he was human. Shego didn't get the whole "World's Most Dangerous Golfer" concept, she just thought it was stupid. Killigan should join forces with that new guy, the "World's Most Dangerous Cartoonist." What was his name? She couldn't remember._ "Cartoons? Jeezus – even Drakken wasn't **that **idiotic! Most of the time..." _Her mind wandered off again. Catching it, she continued:_"Anyhoo, where was I? Oh yeah..." _Together, Killigan and the "noob" (_sounds like a TV show_) could be the "World's Most Dangerous Dorks."

Speaking of dorks...she hadn't heard from Motor Ed since he busted out of prison. In his distinct "NASCAR MacGuyver" style, she recalled. Shego admitted that her tastes in men ran to big and stupid, but in Ed's case, there was such a thing as overkill. Besides, (_drakken's_) Cousin Eddie was a little too "trailer park" for her.

Big and stupid brought her around to Junior. He was cute, for an imbecile, and he definitely showed promise in the "evil" department. Daddy was loaded, so that was a another plus in Junior's column. Shego thought that the Seniors were her best option for work at the moment, and she decided to hunt them down. Last time she knew they were operating a series of evil time-share resorts, "Club Dread," or something equally ridiculous. She had planned on surprising Dr. D with a nice little tropical vacation after he finally defeated Kimmie. _"Drakken deserved some R&R after overworking his tiny brain so..."_

She sighed. "Oh, ..._doodles_..." she whispered to the empty room.

* * *

_**To be continued**_


	4. Chapter 4

_**DISCLAIMER - **_This is a work of fan fiction, and poses no threat to the global empire that is the Disney Corporation.

Thanks to all who took the time to review, I really appreciate the feedback and ideas. I apologize for taking so long to update. Real life has a tendency to intrude at the most inconvenient times._ Beware_ – the story is taking a dark turn shortly.

* * *

After a brief argument with the waitress about the appropriateness of his non-existent tip, Drakken left the diner, and spent the afternoon exploring the wonders of Lowerton. Pickings were slim. Block after block of liquor stores, discount "Swap-Meet" retailers, porn emporiums, crack houses, gang "Members Only" bars, and occasionally, an incongruously well-kept house whose defiant owner was desperately holding his own against the relentless slide of societal entropy. Lost in thought as he passed the 37th or so liquor store, he heard someone shout. "Hey, buddy! You got a couple a bucks?" 

Drakken looked down the decrepit alley and saw two equally decrepit men laying up against the crumbling, filthy side of the liquor store. They were lying in a pile of litter, and had obviously been enjoying a bottle of some mind-altering substance. Kerosene, from the smell of it. One was portly, with a scraggly beard. His friend was a little slimmer, dressed in ancient jeans and a grimy plaid shirt.

"Do I look like I've got anything?" Drakken snarled.

"Now that you mention it, no..." said the bearded one. He peered at Drakken through bloodshot eyes. "Hey – I recognize you! You're that blue guy what was on "American Starmaker!".

"Yeah! That's where I seen you!" The man in plaid thought for a moment. "Ain't you the funky – fresh guy?" he finally asked.

Flattered, Dr. D puffed out his chest. "Why yes, I am!"

"You're not so fresh anymore!"said the plaid one. The bearded one added: "But you sure got some funk on you – pheeeeew!" They smirked at each other, then laughed uproariously, holding their noses.

"_Great, just great,"_ thought Drakken, _"Of all the bums around here, I run into Abbott and Costello." _ Despite himself, Drakken sniffed his armpit. They were right. He hadn't bathed in a few days and was a little ripe. Compared to them, however...

"Mmmmph. And that's a lovely fragrance you're wearing. What is it, vomit? Or urine?" he retorted.

The bums laughed even louder. "BOTH!" They shouted in unison. "You like? We're thinking of bottling it!"

Drakken thought a moment about the potential uses of such a powerful weapon. The profits from sales to third-world dictators alone would be tremendous. However, these flannel wearing hyenas were no threat to Ralph Lauren. Drakken sighed."I don't suppose either of you would know if there is anyplace to get cleaned up around here?" he asked the two as they wiped tears from their eyes.

Catching his breath, the one with the beard apologized. "Sorry about that, friend...I'm sure there is a place to get fresh..." he chortled. "Although it's been awhile since I have...things have changed..." He turned to his friend. "What year is it?" he asked his plaid wearing friend.

"March, I think..." plaid replied.

"Mrrgggg..." stewed Drakken, "It's November! You know, Thanksgiving, 'turkey day', 'gobble, gobble' and all that!"

"Thanksgiving, you say? I guess it has been awhile... All right, friend! We'll help you out. C'mon, Bob. Time for our holiday ablutions" With that, the bearded one staggered to his feet. He helped his friend up and addressed Drakken. "Sorry, pal...we didn't introduce ourselves, did we? I'm Charles B. Faversham, but you can call me Chuck" said the bearded man. With surprising dignity, he extended his hand. "And this is my good friend, Robert Weissman."

"Hi – I'm Bob. Pleased to meet'cha!" said the plaid flannel man.

Drakken shook hands with the two. "How do you do?" He paused. "I'm...Drew"

* * *

Shego was still staring into space, her mind in places she'd never dared visit before. A beep from the computer woke her. 

On the screen her "New Message" icon blinked. She clicked it open and read. _"Hmmm... interesting..."_ she thought. This new information called for a change of plans. She needed to contact the Seniors ASAP. Playtime was over. But before she could go back to work, she needed to clear her head, and get a few things out of her system.

And she knew just what the Doctor (_D_) would order.

* * *

Kim and Monique sat across from Ron and Rufus at Middleton's newly refurbished _Bueno Nacho_. Ron was elated when he learned that his beloved Naco was back on the menu. Out of deference to his new relationship with Kim, he made an attempt to improve his table manners. He wasn't very successful, but Kim appreciated the effort. Rufus made no such distinction. He gorged himself like a tiny Roman epicurean. Kim and Mo watched in bemused disgust. 

"How can something so small devour so much? Has he got a tapeworm or something?" Monique asked.

"Ewwwww! Gross!" exclaimed Ron. "Monique, by now you should know Rufus has a healthy appreciation for the finer things in life. _Carpe Diem_, et cetera."

Monique glanced at Kim, turned to Ron and smiled. "Oooooh! I love it when you speak the Latin, Ron! _Eres tu!_" She laughed.

"Arrest me? What the...? Kim, decode for me, please!" Ron pleaded. Latin was not his friend.

Kim tried to hide her shock. "Monique wants to..." she paused, blushing, not knowing exactly how to explain it to Ron, "...she's just teasing you."

"That's right, Ron! I wouldn't ever CTL on you. Although you and handcuffs, hmmmm..." Monique shot a naughty wink to Kim. Kim blushed even harder, and elbowed Mo in the ribs.

Ron had the vague feeling he was the butt of some kind of joke, but he let it slide. "So, what do you two have planned for tonight? Are you sure Felix and I can't entice you with an all-night round of 'Zombie Mayhem 4 – Purely Gratuitous Violence and Gore'?" The new truth in advertising regulations on video games were strictly enforced in Middleton. Ron didn't mind. "We're sending out for szechuan and pizza!"

Monique blanched. "No, that's OK," she said, "You and Felix have a nice time scratching yourselves and getting indigestion. Kim and I are going to do _girly_-girl things, ain't that right, girlfriend?"

"You betcha!" said Kim. She and Monique hadn't been out and about shopping and talking and dining and talking and shopping and talking some more in quite awhile. Kim was looking forward to having some air-headed fun, and maybe picking Mo's brain for ideas on getting out of the rut she felt she was in. "You and Felix have fun and don't worry about us. Let's check in with each other about midnight to see if we're each still alive." Being a weekend night, Kim and Ron had permission to be out late.

"Sounds good!" Ron smiled. He kissed Kim on her cheek, scooped up Rufus, and added: "You two have a great time, and try not to burn my ears off" He guessed (correctly) what their main topic of discussion would be for the evening. With a cheery wave and a jolly saunter, he left.

Kim sighed and waved back.

"Girl, you sure can pick 'em," Monique laughed. "Took you long enough!"

"I know...he's the best. Sometimes what you're looking for is right there plain as day. I don't know why I took so long,... couldn't see the forest for the Erics, I guess..." Kim sighed again. Turning to Mo she asked: "You were just kidding about wanting to..." she paused, a little embarrassed, "...'do' Ron, right?"

"Of course, Kim. You're safe!" Monique laughed again. "But just so you know, if you ever leave him, I might be around to pick up the pieces. That ought to keep you on your toes." She laughed again, merrily. "Now come on, girlfriend, lets go get ready to PARTY!"

* * *

Chuck and Bob were upset to find out that Thanksgiving was still almost a week away. They had made themselves presentable ("presentable" meaning they splashed some water on themselves and combed their hair) for nothing. Drakken had managed to make good use of the library restrooms, and with some fresh clothes from the local shelter, he felt like a semblance of his former self. It was time to begin planning in earnest. First things first. A proper villain needed a proper lair. 

"A lair? What the hell is a lair?" asked Bob.

Come now, my friend, surely you know what a lair is," replied Chuck, "A den, a nest, a refuge, resting place, retreat, sanctuary..."

"Thank you, Mr. Thesaurus. For my purposes, _Hideout_ would be more appropriate," interrupted Drakken.

"Oh, well then, why didn't you say so?" said Bob.

"No offense to your charming little alley trash-heap, but my needs dictate a more private location," Drakken continued, "...to plan the final demise of Kim Possible!" He laughed dramatically.

"The cheerleader?" Chuck and Bob asked in unison. They had heard and read about Kim's exploits numerous times, but never heard of a "Dr. Drakken." The two of them were vaguely aware of some inept blue clown she always battled, but were unable to make the connection between Drew and the heroic teenager. Instead, Bob took the direction his nature dictated, the gutter. "Isn't she a little young for you?" he asked.

"Errrrmmmmggghh – gross! Never mind!" Drakken growled, "We're getting off topic! Is there any decent hiding place around here? Because this place just isn't cutting it!" They had returned to the lobby of the Lowerton bus station, and were seated in some filthy chairs, the kind that had small black & white TVs attached. For a quarter you could watch 20 minutes of "People's Court" - at least that was the popular program with the station's only other occupant at the moment.

"Will you guys shut the hell UP?" the bum shouted at them, "I can't hear the Judge!" He cranked the volume to full.

"That's what I'm talking about! No privacy at all!" Drakken shouted back at the bum. "You shut up! Turn that down! We're discussing private business over here!"

Enraged, the bum got out of his seat. "You gonna make me make you shut up?" he threatened. He marched toward Drakken and his friends, when the door to the station burst open with a BANG. A group of unsavory looking types marched in. The largest, apparently the leader judging by the size of his muscles and tattoos, looked around the shabby lobby. His eyes settled on Drakken.

Drakken's girlfriend Trouble had woken up in a _really_ bad mood.

Tattoos stomped toward Dr. D, his gang following. He shoved the angry Nielsen viewer to the ground and studied Drakken for a moment. He glanced at a paper in his hand and then looked him square in the eyes. "Are you Dr. Drakken?" he finally asked.

Chuck and Bob exchanged confused looks.

"Who wants to know?" asked Drakken with a malicious sneer.

"My FIST!" Tattoos punched Drakken in the face, snapping his nose, blood spraying everywhere. Drakken flew out of his chair, the TV case shattering, spilling quarters amongst the maroon splatters. Chuck, Bob and TV bum dove for the jackpot. Tattoos and the gang proceeded to mercilessly beat on Dr. Drakken. Lying bleeding and helpless on the floor, he pleaded: "Not in the face, not in the FACE!" Tattoo's friend Spikes obliged by viciously kicking him in it. Repeatedly. The rest joined in, kicking and punching, laughing all the while. Drakken faded into blissful unconsciousness.

Spikes ripped up a bench bolted to the floor and was about to crush Drakken with it when Tattoos grabbed his arm and stopped him. "Hold it!" Tattoos said, " That's enough, for now." He took another look at his now red-stained paper. "We're not supposed to kill him." As suddenly as they entered, they left.

Engrossed in grabbing as many quarters as they could, Chuck and Bob barely registered the approaching sirens. Chuck had a fleeting thought that it was odd that the cops would arrive so quickly, they barely answered calls in this part of town. Bob thought wisely that they would get busted for stealing, so he grabbed Chuck and they fled to the restroom to hide.

The cops entered and surveyed the mess. One walked over to Drakken and goosed him with his foot. Seeing that Drakken was still breathing, he muttered "He'll live..." and rejoined his partner, who was handcuffing TV man.

"Should we call the EMT's?" his partner asked.

"It's none of their business." His partner started to object when the lead cop snapped, "I said he'll live! Let's go. NOW!" They hustled "Mr People's Court" out the door and into the squad car, and drove away.

Chuck peered out the restroom door, and gave Bob an "all-clear". They entered the now silent lobby and went to Drakken's side.

"Hey, buddy..." Chuck gently slapped Drakken's cheek. "You OK there?" Drakken moaned softly. Chuck cursed himself. He couldn't believe he was so venal that he would avoid his new friend's plight merely for the sake of some pocket change. How low had he sunk? "C'mon pal, lets get you fixed up..." He and Bob hoisted Dr. D onto their shoulders and carried him out the door.

The setting sun outside was stunningly lovely. Chuck and Bob didn't notice. They were absorbed in carefully walking, sometimes dragging, Dr. Drakken's broken body back to their alley.

At one point, Dr. D slurred, "Why yes, mother...some cocoa-moo would be nice..."

* * *

_**To be continued**_


	5. Chapter 5

Tonight had been a BLAST. Kim and Monique had gone shopping, had picked up a few cute little things from "Club Banana" (with Mo's employee discount, natch), enjoyed a nice dinner at someplace other than "Bueno Nacho," and were now clubbing away at one of the many nightspots that Monique was privy to. Kim hadn't felt this much like a normal teenager in some time. She was sitting at a table in one of Loweron's hotter (in more ways than one – _ "it's sweltering in here,"_ Kim thought) clubs, nursing a soda, when Monique came up and sat down to catch her breath. She had been boogieing with nearly every available male in the club. Kim enjoyed dancing, but felt funny about "getting down" with anyone but Ron. She felt she was leading them on, even though she really wasn't trying to.

Monique had brought along a new acquaintance she wanted to introduce to Kim. "Hey Kim – meet Kellie!"

**_xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_**

Tonight had been a BLAST! Lowerton was a dump, but damned if it didn't have the best nightspots in the Tri-city area. Lots of Upperton rich kids, who wanted a little taste of danger, frequented the clubs, including a few really hot hunks. One even gave her a rose. Pathetic. For the most part, though, they certainly knew how to get down, and if one (or two, maybe) got lucky and not too drunk, they might have a chance to get it up with her later.

Shego wore her blond disguise again and was wearing one of the outfits she had purchased earlier today. She was dancing away with some hottie trust-fund baby when she noticed an adorable girl with waist length curly black hair dancing next to her. Shego recognized gabby from "Club Banana,"

Monique greeted her heartily. "Hey, girlfriend! Looking good tonight! Nice outfit!"

"Thanks!" Shego shouted above the din. "You have nice taste!" It never hurt to be friendly now and then.

"I'm Monique! It's nice to see you!" Monique shouted back.

"Kellie! You too!"

The music paused briefly. "Wanna take a break and get a drink?" Monique shouted, then realized everyone around could hear her.

Shego considered a moment. Her partner was more than a little wasted. He looked at her hungrily. She decided to play hard to get. "Sounds good to me. Later, babe!" Shego smiled evilly as she walked off with Monique. The music started up again, drowning out the curses of her rejected "date."

"There's someone I want you too meet! You'll LOVE her" said Monique as she led "Kellie" to the table.

"_Oh, shit,ohshit,ohshitohshitohshitohshit!"_ thought Shego when she saw who was sitting there. Sometimes, it hurt to be friendly now and then. A lot.

**_xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_**

"Hey Kim – meet Kellie!"said Monique.

"I'm Kim Possible," Kim announced, "It's very nice to meet you, Kellie!" Kim extended her hand. Shego fought mightily the urge to fire up and fry Kimmie's hand off right there.

"Kellie. Kellie Negra," said Shego. "WOW !" she giggled, "Kim POSSIBLE! I've heard SO much about you!" She managed to keep her innate sarcasm mostly in check.

"Thanks,... no big..." Kim blushed, "You seem kinda familiar to me. Have we met before?"

"Never! I would've remembered something BIG like that!" Shego lied. Beads of sweat were forming under her wig, and not from her exertions on the dance floor. "My life is pretty boring compared to yours..."

_**Beep beep BE deep**_

"Excuse me, " Kim said. It must be around midnight. She answered the Kimmunicator and expected to see Ron's freckled face. Instead, it was Wade, alert and apprehensive for this time of night. "What's the sitch, Wade?"

"Kim! I've got an emergency message for you. Global Justice. Hold on!" Wade's image was replaced by that of...Agent Will Du?

"Miss Possible. I apologize for the late hour, but your presence is required at Headquarters," he said, stiffly. Kim opened her mouth to object, but was cut off as Du continued: "Immediately! You will be given details upon arrival." The Kimmunicator went blank.

Kim glowered.

Shego laid the "dumb blond" act on thick. "Oh, wow! See! That kind of stuff NEVER happens to me!" she squealed. "How cool was THAT?"

Kim looked anything but excited. "Sorry, Monique. I gotta go," she apologized, "And I was having such a great time..." She stood up to leave.

"Ohhhhh, Kim! Me too! It's OK..." Monique was crestfallen. " It's getting late, anyway...Call me tomorrow?" She gave Kim a hug.

"Of course!" Kim said, returning the hug. "Kellie – it was nice to meet you. Sorry I couldn't hang around." Kim held her hand out. "Duty calls..."

"_And not a moment too soon..."_ Shego thought as she shook hands with Princess once more. After Kim was gone, she sat down at the table with Monique. She faked a yawn. "My gosh, it IS late...I'd better be going home! All this excitement! Nice to see you again! Thanks for introducing me to Kim Possible! Wow! Too much!" Shego giggled like an idiot, and left.

Monique sat there alone, absently thinking about stereotypes. Dejected, she sighed, finished her drink, and decided to call it a night as well.

* * *

Once outside, Kim walked over to a manhole cover in the center of the sidewalk. She entered a code using the keypad on her Kimmunicator. The cover slid out from under her, and Kim dropped silently, beginning her express ride to Hell. Or Global Justice Headquarters. What was the difference?

* * *

Shego left the club and walked hurriedly through Lowerton's deserted streets back to her car, casting nervous glances over her shoulder. Not that she was worried for her safety (_as if)_, she was deeply freaked out by her encounter with Kim. Surprisingly freaked. Talk about a buzzkill. _"That was waaaayy to close..." _she thought. The Cosmic Engineer sure has a strange sense of humor. She hurried onward.

"Hey, lady!"

Startled, Shego stopped in her tracks. She peered down an alley, looking for the source of the voice. She saw a fat, bearded man laying near the sidewalk.

"This ain't a safe neighborhood for a pretty little thing like you to be walking around alone." Chuck informed her.

Shego laughed. "Thanks for the advice, rummy. I can take care of myself" She stumbled over some trash on her way to get a better look at him. "OOF, dammit..." she looked down to see what tripped her. She stifled a scream. It wasn't a pile of trash, but rather a black and blue man. Much more black than blue. "Dr. D?" What kind of sick high-school reunion was this night turning into?

Drakken was utterly still. Dried, crusty blood ran from his mouth and nose. Dark red stains blotted his ratty clothing. The stench of alcohol made her want to vomit. What the? Dr. D didn't drink! He had a bad enough time with lemonade.

Chuck staggered to his feet and joined Shego. "You know this GHUHURRRK?"

Blind with rage, Shego's arm shot out and her hand seized Chuck's throat. She squeezed it tight and lifted him up so high that his feet couldn't touch the ground. "YOU! What did you DO _TO_**_HIM_**?"

"No! NO...CHLRuurrrkkhHH.." Chuck clutched feebly at the hand crushing his windpipe. "FUH...reND!" He struggled to breathe. Shego flung Chuck effortlessly to the far end of the alley, as if he were nothing more than a rag-doll. His body landed in a noisy, tangled heap among the trashcans. The resounding _CRASH_ aroused Bob from his stupor.

He watched hazily as Shego coldly walked to where Chuck lay, intending to finish the job. Chuck managed to squeak "Wait! STOP!" Bob wisely passed out again.

Shego grabbed Chuck's shirt front and lifted him till his face was mere centimeters from hers. The reek of cheap booze filled her nostrils as she asked again: "What did you DO to HIM?"

Chuck, terrified, said: "Drew is... our friend! He...he got hurt and..."

"No shit!" Shego swung back to hit him. No mercy this time.

A wet stain spread on Chuck's pants as he blubbered: "Some other guys! Some guys did it! In the bus station! We never saw them before! We were just trying to help!"

Shego paused, her fury subsiding. She wanted nothing more than to slaughter this filthy dreg, but realized it wasn't worth the trouble. "Yeah, you're a regular Dr. Kildare," she snarled, poison dripping from her voice, "I can tell from your choice of anesthetic..." She released her grip and let him drop.

Chuck, gasping for air, coughed and said, mostly to himself: "No kidding... you can take care of yourself!"

Shego didn't hear him. She had gone back to check on Dr. D. She knelt down beside him and was relieved to find a pulse. He had some broken ribs, and a broken arm. His face, never the most beautiful thing in the world to begin with, was almost unrecognizable. He'd have a few more nasty scars to join the one he already had. It was internal injuries she was most worried about. That these idiots had force-fed him alcohol only made it worse. What to do, what to do...

Chuck had gotten to his feet again and approached Shego. He stayed about 10 feet away this time, just in case. "The cops came, but they wouldn't call the ambulance..."

"Shut up! Turn around and close your eyes" she snapped. Chuck obeyed.

Shego lay her hands on Drakken, and closed her eyes. A very low, soft, green glow emanated from her hands. She hadn't used her powers in months, and she hadn't used them to heal anyone other than herself since her "Team GO" days. She could do much more with them than just blast the shit out of things. These secrets Shego kept to herself. After a few minutes, her senses guiding her, she was satisfied that Dr. D was on the mend. She stood up, removed her new and expensive overcoat and laid it over him. "Yo! Fatso!" she yelled at Chuck.

He turned slowly, his hands in the air. Despite the cold, he was sweating profusely.

"You see this?" Shego snapped, pointing at the coat, "This is HIS! Not yours, not anyones! Don't touch it!"

Chuck nodded slowly.

"And this?" She hoisted the empty vodka bottle. "Don't give this to him again! EVER!" To emphasize her point, she hurled the bottle at Chuck, missing his head by millimeters. It shattered on the wall behind him.

Chuck fainted.

Shego looked sadly down at Drakken's sleeping form. He should be OK, for now. He'd have to be. A wave of uncomfortable feelings washed over her. She walked the few remaining blocks to her car, and gingerly stepped over the unconscious bodies of about 12 different wanna-be car-thieves. Her self-made anti-theft device packed a wallop. She started up the car, and took the long way back to Middleton. She wanted to think. The tears in her eyes made it hard to see the road.

It was time to pack.

Time to move on.

* * *

_**To be continued**_


	6. Chapter 6

* * *

Kim flew through the underground tube. While it was fun and exciting at first, she didn't much care for it anymore. It was getting old real fast. Not just the ride, the whole GJ thing. She reached her destination and popped out the bottom of the chute. 

Right on cue, she could hear a "boooOOOOOOYAAAAHHHHA-HA-HA-**HA**!" and Ron landed right next to her. Exhilarated, he proclaimed: "Man, that never gets old! Hey KP!" He gave her an enthusiastic hug.

"Hey, bad boy!" Kim squeezed him back. "You and Felix have a good time?"

Ron held up his heavily bandaged thumbs. "You bet! You?"

"Great, until this. Happy to see you!" She kissed him passionately. They hugged tighter. "I can tell you're happy to see me, too..." she whispered. Ron blushed.

"A-hem!" Will Du coughed. "When you're finished..."

Kim looked at Ron and said quietly, "This had better be good..." They broke their embrace and turned to face Will Du.

"Agents Possible, Stoppable..." he said flatly.

"Wassup?" Ron beamed. Winding Du's tightly coiled spring even tighter was an endless source of fun.

Du rolled his eyes at Ron's impertinence. Some things never changed. "I appreciate your coming on such short notice. There is a situation developing that will require your attention. Follow me, please." Du led them down a corridor to the command center. Global Justice, usually bustling with activity 24/7 was unusually quiet. "I am sure you are aware of the recent riots in Europe and the Mid-East over cartoons of the prophet Mohammad?"

"Yes," Kim replied, "We watch the news."

"Perhaps you may have noticed that the violent reaction far outweighed the severity of the provoking incident," Du said. "We wondered about that too, and we have found what we think may be the source of the problem." He tapped a keyboard and on the view-screen appeared the image of a young man, about 30 or so guessed Kim, with glasses, a beret, and a neat goatee. He had a slightly crazed look in his eyes.

"A beatnik?" asked Ron. "Crazy, man..."

"Well put, Stoppable, exactly." Du continued: "This is Arthur Marker, Age 31, former performance artist, now apparently cartoonist provocateur."

"A cartoonist. Named "Art" Marker," Kim deadpanned. "You've got to be kidding."

Agent Du said solemnly: "I only wish that were true. It's not 'funny' at all. Take a look at these" Kim and Ron watched as Du projected a series of the nation's most popular comic strips: "_The Bland Family_", "Big Stupid Dog", "_Bland Family 2_", "Fat Obnoxious Cat", "_Bland Family 3_", "Conservative Duck", "_Bland Family 4_", "Obnoxious Cat and Stupid Dog", "_Bland Family 5_", "Aging Hippie Diatribe", "_Bland Family ad infinitum_" on the view screen.

Ron was impressed. "He draws all those? Wow! Yeah, they're terrible, but so what? I don't get it."

"That demonstration was only to give you a reference point. These are his cartoons." Du then projected some of Marker's best pieces.

Kim stood pale, in shock and horror.

Ron stood slack-jawed, unblinking. "Turn it off, turn IT OFF!" he finally pleaded.

Kim shook her head to regain her senses. "I don't get it either. What is it about him that requires our services?"

"How do I put this...You two seem to specialize in...weirdos? Freaky villains? He seemed right up your alley, and you handle them much more efficiently than we do. Besides, at this point he doesn't deserve the full resources of Global Justice." Du explained.

"Oh, I get it. You want us to do all the dirty work so you guys can come in and claim all the glory!" Ron surmised.

"Nonsense," said Du, "You are the experts, and have resources unavailable to us. There is a proposed international challenge to create offensive historical Holocaust cartoons. This, if anything, will draw him out..."

Ron winced at the pun.

Du looked perplexed. "Did I say something, Agent Stoppable?"

"No, man...I'm good. Keep going."

"What are we supposed to do about it _now_?" Kim asked angrily.

"Find out what you can about Marker. Discover where he is and what his plans are, if any. His last known address was in San Francisco, but that was six months ago. Your little computer friend is authorized to assist you." he added, patronizingly.

"Ooooohkaaay," Kim said, getting peeved. "Why call us in at this hour? Where is Dr. Director?" Kim asked. "

"She is dealing with an A-1 emergency priority situation right now, and can't be bothered. I am acting on her direct orders. She told me to call you in to advise and assist and said it was urgent." Du said haltingly. "You have your assignment. We expect a report by Sunday at 1300 hours."

"Oh, you do, do you?" Kim was beyond peeved. Ron, sensing the tension, decided to alleviate it.

"Hey, hey. That's good...Thanks Will, we'll get right on it, eh, KP? C'mon, lets go!" He led Kim back to the lift tubes. "Bye now!"

Once they were out of earshot, Kim confided in Ron, "They've got an A-1 emergency situation going on and they don't need us? Instead we get called in the middle of the night to track some demented _cartoonist_? What did he mean by us 'having resources' they don't?"

"They need Wade's mad skills, is my guess...Did the ranks seem a little thin in there to you?"

"Very much so. Ron, what's going on here?"

"My 'Fearless Ferret' sense tells me we're being played KP, but I don't know why."

"Your ferret sense is right on. I don't know either. But we're going to find out."

* * *

Shego arrived home about 3:00 am, and pulled into the garage, her heart still heavy, but her mind determined. She washed off what make-up her tears had missed. It wasn't much. She was going to miss being "Kellie Negra"; it was true that blonds have more fun. But now that persona was too dangerous to keep up. GJ had spies everywhere, and while it was highly unlikely, her little outburst in Lowerton might alert them to her whereabouts. 

She had been successful in locating the Seniors, and they were looking forward to showing her their new resort. She had a flight from Upperton International to Mexico City booked for 7:00 that morning, and then a connecting flight to San José. Her bags were already packed and ready to go. Shego hadn't flown commercial in years, getting through airport security would be a nuisance, but nothing she couldn't handle. Shego decided to become a redhead. It seemed fitting.

Shego had paid 2 years rent up front on her little pad; she hoped to be able come back someday. But just in case her hideout was discovered, she entered a key code on her computer and activated a special Trojan Horse for the GJ forensic computer techs. If they tried to hack her hard drive, it promised them hours, if not days, of "fun".

The furniture covered, the car loaded up, dressed to the nines with a red wig and green contacts, Shego was ready to go. She pulled out of the garage, activated the security alarm (one more surprise for the unsuspecting GJ) and drove to Upperton International Airport.

* * *

Drakken was never a morning person. This morning even more so. Every hair on his body hurt. How that could be when he had no memory of the night before perplexed him. This nice, warm, expensive coat covering him confused him even further. He moaned as he came to. "Ohhhuuurrgggggg! Where am I? What happened?" he asked to no one in particular. 

"Good morning, sleepyhead," said Bob, "How are we feeling this morning?"

"Like a human war zone..." Drakken replied. He gazed at Bob and remembered his sorry circumstances. "What happened?" he asked again.

"You got some rabid fans left over from your TV days," said Bob. "They either really like you or they don't."

"Wha..?" It hurt to move. "What are you talking about?" Drakken managed to sit up, painfully.

"You don't remember yesterday, do you? It's just as well, I suppose..."

Drakken tried. His brain hurt. He remembered the bus station and something about "The People's Court" and that was about it. "No, I...urrrrghhh!" He tried to stand and promptly fell back on his rear.

"Easy there, big fella! Baby steps..." cajoled Bob. Together, he and Chuck helped Drakken to his feet. They adjusted his new jacket over his shoulders, dusting it off, and made him look as presentable as they could.

Drakken looked down at the collection of empty and broken liquor bottles at his feet. "Did we have a party last night and I wasn't invited?"

"You could say that..." said Chuck, curtly, his voice raspy.

Drakken felt around in his pockets and discovered his remaining $33.49 was gone. "Oh, god! My money! Where is it? I got 'rolled' last night, didn't I?" he said in a panic. His mother had warned him about such things.

"Yeah," said Bob, not wanting to admit that it was he and Chuck that did the rolling. "It was bad. Me and Chuck got hit, too!"

Chuck shot Bob a look. "Some more than others,..." he said cryptically.

Drakken noticed again his luxurious new black overcoat, the pockets of which Bob was unsubtly searching, until Chuck slapped his hand. "Git outta there! No!" Chuck remembered his warning from the night before.

"Where did this come from?" Drakken asked.

"The angel must've given it to you," said Bob, "She sure was purty."

Angel? Drakken was totally lost. "What angel?"

"She was blond and blue eyed and gorgeous. I dreamed her..." said Bob.

Drakken reached into a pocket and found something. He pulled out a small and delicate rose. He looked at it quizzically. Bruises. Blond angels. Roses. It hurt to think. "I'm hungry," he said finally. "Let's get something to eat."

"The Lowerton Mission puts out a pretty good spread on Saturday," said Chuck, "Let's go there."

They headed to the Lowerton Relief Mission, Bob and Chuck assisting Drakken as they could. He concentrated on moving as painlessly as possible. Bob babbled on about nothing in particular. Chuck was strangely silent, his mind preoccupied with thoughts of blond-haired devils.

_**

* * *

To be continued**_

_**

* * *

DISCLAIMER: **_All characters herein are © Disney, except "Chuck", "Bob", and "Art Marker". They are sole creations of my fevered imagination. Thanks for reading. Comments, reviews, and suggestions are always welcome.


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